Between Me and Mr. Perfect
by WiseCrack
Summary: Did you ever know that even the best student can be late to class?
1. Prologue: Tardiness and the Boy who Liv...

Between Me and Mr. Perfect  
  
Chapter One: Tardiness and the Boy Who Lived

  
  
Everyday, getting ready for school for her was a routine. Wake up, take a shower, eat breakfast, and check school stuff. Getting to school was a problem; for some unknown reason, the clock in her house was always late compared to the regular school time. The fact that no one ever bothered to change it was shrouded in mystery. That mystery affected her early in the years.   
  
When she was young, she always fretted about the consequences of being tardy. She knew she was late because she suddenly had this feeling in her stomach; it was growling even though she wasn't hungry. Opening the doors to the classroom and seeing all her peers stop what they were doing and look her way, not uttering a single word, just fired her anxiousness. They all looked so cold and the teacher expressionless. It was like Judgment Day everyday for her when she was in elementary. But after the punishments and disapprovals by her teacher, things seemed to warm up among her classmates. They welcomed her to sit down with them, fill her in on what activities for the day awaited.   
  
Now, of course, she had grown used to the fact that she might always be late for school. She told herself that the anxiousness that built up in her because she knew she was late would fade once she sat down in her desk. Lateness never hurt anybody in school... well, maybe a few tardy slips and the discussion afterwards with parents, which always ended with an agreement not to be late anymore instead of an argument anyway. What was there to fear? If only she had known this earlier then life would have been easier, but of course, there's always a first time to realize something. And it's not like her peers will laugh at her because she was late. Everybody was late in his or her life at least once. Nobody was really perfect.   
  
Well, almost nobody.   
  
At least once in everyone's lives, there always was a person they really disliked because they thought that person was everything they weren't: perfect. Do you remember that person who you thought you hated but you were really jealous of? Yeah, that person.   
  
Harry Potter wasn't exactly on top of her favorite people list. He, in the eyes of others including hers, was perfect in every way. It didn't matter that he wasn't always the best student in class, all there is that mattered was that something, that scar was done to him, nothing he did. But now he was earning a name for himself. It was not that he had ever done anything directly that affected her in any way, but it was what he did _indirectly_ that affected her miserable life in every way. He had to live. He had to survive that forsaken Lord Voldemort's wrath then become the most famous wizard and yet, as she soon found out, he didn't even know it. Well, at least not until he arrived at Hogwarts, she thought. Did he really have to survive?   
  
She grew up knowing not to wish people horribly, but she also grew up to expectations that she must be somehow like Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Even though her parents were muggles, they had friends who had gone off to Hogwarts and every now and then would slip bits and pieces of news from the magical world. They had never paid more attention to any news before like when they did to that infant who made it out alive from the most feared evil of the time. The one thought that went straight into their heads was, as they looked at their own infant giggling at the trinkets hovering above her, if he could do that, then surely our daughter could. And that's how she always was a good student. That's how she grew up trying to be the perfect - but always tardy - daughter... er, witch.   
  
Through all the loathing and with all the cunning she had, something always goes sour with the perfect plan, because here she was, Hermione Granger, one of Harry Potter's best friends and trusted comrades. And now, as she tries to concentrate in Potions, her mind is unrest of questions that she couldn't quite answer. How did she end up here, with Harry Potter? He was the core of all bad things that ever happened to her, so how was she suddenly friends with him?   
  
Her mind groaned as she recalled the day she met her (privately) sworn adversary. Why did she ever walk into that train compartment?   
  
Where did she go wrong? 


	2. Chapter One: Hallo, my name is...

Between Me and Mr. Perfect  
  
Chapter Two: Hallo, my name is...

  
  
Neville lost his toad, again. Hermione almost sighed, but that would've been rude, so instead she agreed to join the search with him. Even though she could be polite sometimes, desperate situations sought desperate measures. She ruthlessly opened one compartment to another, stunning the occupants. She was finally going to give up when she saw a defeated Neville heading her way.   
  
"What did they say?" Hermione downright asked.   
  
Neville looked up and sighed from his droopy shoulders. Hermione shook her head, more of impatience than of sympathy. Neville really ought to try harder.   
  
"I told you, be more aggressive and they'll probably spill the beans!" And without waiting for an excuse from him, she dragged him to the compartment he'd been. Sliding the door carelessly with her free hand, she examined this compartment's inhabitants.   
  
Two people sat, frozen by her abrupt entrance. One of them was a lanky boy, whose head was on fire with red hair, about to wave his wand, but she apparently surprised them.   
  
The other one, though, caught her full attention. He looked familiar, but she knew she'd never met him. The dark hair, those green eyes - why yes, yes! Couldn't it be?   
  
As soon as she found out it was Harry Potter with that dumb redhead in the train compartment, her body went rigid but at the same time was a million degrees hotter than the hottest volcano. Hermione was sure now of her dislike with the scarred wizard; if he could make her hot like that, it surely wasn't because she fancied him! She regained her composure, knowing how her stature was terrible for a millisecond and focused her attention on the redhead. Neville had gone off once he saw a green blur shoot by him.   
  
Ron Weasley was trying to change his vile pet rat's color into yellow but unfortunately, was having no luck. Mentally rolling her eyes, Hermione offered her assistance.   
  
"No way! How should you know anything when we haven't even learned anything from Hogwarts?" exclaimed Weasley. She was about to give a sigh but thought better. A perfect witch would never be rude to anyone, but of course - Hermione gave Weasley a smirk - there were ways around that.   
  
"A little magic never hurt anybody," she taunted as an explanation. She waited for an answer when Weasley hesitated. Finally, "Fine, but don't kill him. He's very valuable."   
  
Hermione almost rolled her eyes in front of them, but she just took the rat into her hand and waved her wand.   
  
_"Mutatio croceus!"_   
  
Slowly, but surely starting at the tip of its tail, Scabbers turned yellow. Hermione held out her hand further for them to see more clearly, or in her case, just to plain show off. Weasley was opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it again because he knew he couldn't argue with that. Potter just stared in wonderment but was suddenly confronted with a dreadful feeling: are first years supposed to know that much? He hadn't been reading his new books since there was no requirement. Was it just he or did he learn about things slower than others?   
  
Hermione, annoyed by the silence, deemed it impolite not to be thanked for her brilliantness. "Well?"   
  
It was Weasley who snapped back first from his thoughts. "Well what?"   
  
She was now beginning to feel exasperated. Why does it have to be hard to put down people? "I just turned your rat yellow, because that's what you wanted, so aren't you going to even acknowledge the fact that I helped you?"   
  
Weasley, unlike Hermione, rolled his eyes openly. "First of all, I never asked for your help, you forced me into it, and secondly, I never wanted Scabbers to turn yellow, I just wanted to show Harry a spell my brothers taught me."   
  
Hermione, miffed, was quick with a comeback.   
  
"Well," she began airily like a schoolteacher scolding a child, "your brothers certainly aren't bright because they taught you wrong since your spell doesn't even work!" After she said that, her right hand went up automatically to cover her naughty mouth and Hermione looked at Weasley apologetically. She had let her inappropriate opinions lose from her tongue, her supposedly immaculate tongue.   
  
Weasley was about to express his expressions, and it wasn't about rolling his eyes. Harry decided to jump into the "conversation."   
  
"She did turn Scabbers yellow, Ron, maybe you should thank her," he suggested. Hermione looked at him strangely. Was he, Harry Potter, defending her? The same Harry Potter who made every waking morning of her life miserable? There must be something going on here, she thought. Harry must have caught the look on her face for he said, "And you should apologize to Ron; he didn't deserve that comment."   
  
That confirmed her suspicions. Willingly, at least on the outside, she stuck out her hand to the redhead. Weasley cautiously accepted it and they shook. Hey, if I'm going to make up to these two dunderheads, I might as well go underdog, she said to herself. I wonder...   
  
"By the way, my name's Hermione Granger," she introduced herself. "And you are?"   
  
%%%%%   
  
She was right; it had been Harry Potter in the train compartment with the unmistakably dumb redhead. Potter looked different though, at least from the way she pictured him to be.   
  
Even though she could tell Weasley was still uncomfortable after their little squabble, she hung around without being invited. To be a top investigator, you had to force yourself like an unpredictable storm to get what you want. Hermione eased herself into their presence as subtly as she could though, because things were a bit tenuous among them... or between Weasley and her.   
  
Treading on thin ice wasn't exactly on top of her agenda right now, but it was what she had to do if she really wanted to find out more about Potter. It wasn't like she was one of those stupidly enamored girls who thought they were in love with him. No, she was different. She had an actual purpose rather than to fall for that disgustingly oblivious wizard. Hermione Granger knew better.   
  
%%%%%   
  
When the train started to slow down, it was dark outside. Weasley stuck his head out the window to look up at the full moon. Hermione spoke up from her seat.   
  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said as-a-matter-of-factly. Weasley just ignored her. That git is getting on my nerves, Hermione thought. This might be harder than I imagined.   
  
It wasn't his well being she was worried about, not at all. It was the well being of her plan was what concerned her for she saw how that redhead had grown to be an important role in her plan even in such a short time.   
  
So far, she's discovered just from the way they act that Potter never had any friends; at least not ones that really wasted their time on him. Weasley, she couldn't tell if he was being nice for the sake of it or maybe of that scar donned by the green-eyed pest.   
  
Granger scowled. That stupid, ugly scar. It was a recurring reminder that she wasn't perfect enough, it was as if it was there for that only purpose: to keep her from being who she was supposed to be, the perfect person. Getting it out of the way means either to do a little surgery (which wasn't nearly possible for she was no surgeon), or to -   
  
Her thoughts were cut short when Potter stood up to stretch and the scar disappeared from her line of vision. The truth was, he was getting uncomfortable by the way she was paying intent attention on his scar. He was always self-conscious about it. She glanced up at the boy and she stood up also, not wanting to be looking up at him.   
  
"Do you mind?" Weasley broke the silence. His hand gestured toward the uniforms that were draped carelessly over the vacant seats. Granger understood; they had to change before the train stopped. Even after knowing this, she did not budge. Potter made a move towards her and she stepped back, not wanting to come in contact with any part of him. Potter looked confused for a moment then blushed instantly. Granger just arched a brow. She knew he hadn't meant that move; she was in the way. Nonetheless, she slid the compartment open when he wouldn't dare move and closed it behind her. The Hogwarts Express stopped just as Granger reached her own compartment.   
  
%%%%%   
  
That encounter with Potter made her learn another thing about him. He acted quite modestly and humiliated, contrasting with the way she knew him through books. Her impression on him ever since she was old enough to understand was that of a conceit, arrogant brat. If he were any of those, he would've gruffly pushed her aside to open the door and kick her out. This confused Granger even more; why was he like that? Why wasn't he the person she imagined to be?   
  
It must be a conspiracy. After all, he could be a sly and calculating under that innocent boy mask.   
  
Still, what he did annoyed her. He should've acted the way she grew up to think, a spoilt and corrupt person. He should've been making witty and cutting remarks instead of patching things up between her and Weasley, but he wasn't going by the book. That annoyed her the most because she couldn't understand what he was doing. Did he know she was on to him?   
  
And when Hermione Granger, a person who knows everything, is confused, there is definitely something going on and she doesn't like it a bit.   
  
  
  
Author's Note: This whole story right now is actually from the top of my head, so I'm not making any corrections. Well, maybe a few... all right, a lot. I just don't think I've edited it enough, and I'm sure of that for this chapter.   
I feel like there's a bubble inside me and if I'm not careful I might burst it, but right now is not a good bursting time, correct? XD   
Thanks for the review! It helped my bubble (ego) a lot!  
Yes, the chapter title was a pun on Eminem's song, er, rap... whatever.   
There is going to be a disclaimer, and it should be here soon. We do all know that Harry Potter isn't mine, right?   
  
- (c) WiseCrack (story and stuff) 


End file.
